Yes, folks, it’s Easter! That special time when flowers bloom, bunnies are born, eggs are painted in many pastel hues, tiny tots are dressed in pretty little dresses, and that dead guy comes back to life. You know, all that stuff.
But do you know the real meaning of Easter? You’re in luck. Now is the time for me to
screw up tell you the story of Easter. Once, a long, long time ago, there was a rabbit that wore a little blue jacket. His name was Peter, or Simon-Peter, take your pick, and he was always getting into some sort of trouble, because he was trying to spread the gospel.
What is the gospel? It’s from this book with teeny tiny illustrations that teach lessons to us all. There’s the tale of two bad mice, and that one about Mrs. Tittlemouse, and Squirrel Nutkin, and of course no one can forget the unforgettable parable of Jemima Puddleduck. Anyway, he wanted to spread these stories, even though it was dangerous to do so.
One who definitely needed converting was a Mr. McGregor. So Peter ignored his Mother Bunny, who happened to be a virgin bunny – don’t ask, and crawled under the fence, on a mission to spread the Word. Sadly, he got caught and baked into a pie. All the animals were sadfaced. How would they learn the Word of the Great Potter now?
But lo, after three days, Peter emerged from the oven, alive! He scared the crap out of Mr. McGregor, man. He was now an angel bunny, who told his followers to “Do this in remembrance of me guyz – Paint eggs and hide them from children.” “Wtf?” asked his followers. But Peter said, “Yo, don’t question me.” So they did it. And they still do it today, although all the history got mixed up along the way.
And that’s the story of Easter. Yes it is. Now I’m going to eat a Cadbury egg.
“I did absolutely nothing. And it was everything I thought it could be.”
– Peter Gibbons in Office Space
A while back I wrote a little post called Epic Quests and Crap Like That. You might remember it, since it got Freshly Pressed, and also since I’m reminding you of it right now. Also there’s that handy link. But anyhoo, I’ve had a lot of time to think about this quest of mine and whether this is the right path for me.
You see, I’m what people might call a “worrier” or “neurotic” or “a total freakazoid”. I can manage to turn the simplest of tasks into a monumental undertaking. And if there’s a book on this undertaking? Look out, I’ll find it. And I’ll research the poop out of it. Yes I will. I have researched more self-help books than you can count. Books on how to lose weight, exercise, be more spiritual, be more of a freethinker, be less of a worrier (ie freakazoid), be more assertive, make more friends, declutter my living space, parent my children, self-diagnose various diseases I might have, diagnose psychological problems I definitely have, manage my finances, manage my husband, eliminate stress, and, of course, simplify my life.
My latest quest, as you know if you read that post that made me, like, famous for 24 hours or so until people realized who I really was, was to lose weight. This did not go well. I didn’t lose any weight. I sort of came up with some new probably good habits. But no weight loss. So then I wrote my Big Fat Manifesto, in which I griped about how people hate fat people and it’s really not fair when there are so many other reasons to hate people, like that they’re assholes. I conveniently left you a link to that too, because I like it when WordPress asks me permission to link to my own stuff.
Anyway, you’re probably wondering what my new quest is now. In the last post mentioned, I said I wanted to get healthier. I think I might know the way to do it. I’ve been heavily influenced by my reading, as usual. One thing I read was this book called Sloth by Wendy Wasserstein. It’s part of this series on the seven deadly sins, only Wendy actually advocates for sloth. Sure, it’s satirical, but like all satire it holds a grain of truth. Sometimes what we need to do most is absolutely nothing.
I’ve mentioned before that I’m sort of lazy. That’s true and not true. While my body often is not off the couch, my mind is always running. I have the thinnest brain ever, next to Ana Steele. Basically, I am both Sad Pony AND Squirrel, which I guess means I am sort of dating Miss Four Eyes. Awesome. Anyway, this book gives you permission to do nothing, and is written as if it is the next great self-help book. You know what? It think it is.
My favorite movie of all time is called Office Space. It was released in 1999, so you might not remember it, but it is still awesome. When I first watched it, I was working for a boss from Hades, so I really identified with the main character, Peter. He works for this mind numbing corporation. His boss treats him like crap, his girlfriend treats him like crap, his job is killing him slowly, and he thinks each day is the worst day of his life. Until he happens to go to a shrink who puts him under hypnosis before collapsing from a a heart attack. Peter stays in this hypnosis, completely relaxed, without a care in the world. What happens afterward is my favorite part.
Instead of working on the weekend, he sleeps most of the day, ignoring calls from his boss and girlfriend. Finally he gets up, happy and refreshed. When the girlfriend calls again, he picks up the phone, glances at it, presses the off button, and goes about his business. There is something about that scene that resonates with me. Here is a situation that just the day before would have had his stomach in knots, yet now, in his relaxed state, he says pfft, and turns the bitchy girlfriend off.
And that’s not all. He goes to work. The same crap happens, only now he’s relaxed and at ease so none of it gets to him. I want that hypnosis. Of course, in real life, that’s not how hypnosis works. But I think we can still get it, if we let ourselves go, and give ourselves a break. Sometimes, it is so nice to simply just be, and those moments are so few. So that’s what I’m trying to do now. I’m embracing my inner hippie sloth – check out the link for a review on an awful kid’s show. I know, I’m on a roll here!
I’ve started doing Yoga with a DVD. I know, me, of all people. But I like the breathing part. The very best pose is one that looks suspiciously like lying flat on your back, but don’t be fooled! This is Yoga, you guyz, and I am getting all spiritual and calm and crap. There’s a lot of stretching and turning this way and that and sometimes I just stop and go “Pfft, she’s kidding, right? Legs don’t go that way.” But mostly I like it. Who knows? Maybe I might accidentally lose some weight, or possibly my asthma will improve, or at least I’ll get to take naps on a mat like in kindergarten. It’s all good.
So I’m working on just going with the flow. Maybe I’ll eat an apple. Or maybe I’ll have a milkshake. Maybe I’ll go for a walk. Maybe I’ll nap. There are endless possibilities on this new path. Reflecting this change in my quest, you might see changes on this blog. I might post a blog post next week. I might post three. I might post none. I might post two in one day. There might be more one word posts (that got me the most hits in weeks). I might not use so many pictures. I might only use pictures. I might have guest bloggers come do my dirty work. You just never know. Isn’t that exciting? Where are you going? Ah, well.
Home stretch, peeps, home stretch. It’s like when you’re doing Yoga, and the nice lady tells you to just hold that awkward pose for a little bit longer. Just a little bit. And you fall over and Charlie Horse! Wait, no, we are going to hold the pose, guys. And I just lost track of my own metaphor.
Anyway, I asked two questions to my faithful and somewhat deranged readers. Question 1: In Chapter 21, why does Ana believe she deserves a Congressional Medal of Honor? Question 2: In Chapter 22, we get another ZOMG random plot device! Any guesses what it is? It’s dumber than you think, I bet!
In response there were Veggietale song lyrics about Ana’s vagina (the Veggietale / 50 Shades of Grey crossover sounds more promising all the time), mentions of Ana winning a medal by orgasming and queefing and giving the best BJs ever, and finally, several people pointed out that there could be no plot device in lieu of an actual plot. Good points, all.
I also received this disturbing information from purpleperceptions in my email. It made me faceplant on my desk. Repeatedly. Here it is:
No time for tears. Let’s get on with this incredible writing, shall we? So last we left Ana-dumkins, she was freaked out because Christipoo had been out with the “bitch troll” Mrs. Robinson, Christian’s ex that she does not obsess about constantly. Oh, she can forgive all the other stuff Christian does: the emotional abuse, the beatings, the way he makes her fear for her safety – but crap, he had a drink with his ex! That is unforgivable. So she “rocks to and fro” like baby, with “hot scalding tears” and I don’t give a shit.
When she’d done whining for a bit, she looks through Christian’s emails and finds one about crap related to the investigation into that guy who tried to rape and kidnap her. Ana thinks, meh, and goes back to bitching to herself about the ex. You know how some people sleep on the couch when they’re mad? Well, Ana locks herself in the playroom where Christian beats her, and goes right to sleep. Yeah.
So the next morning, Ana comes out and has this argument with Christian, or rather, she mostly ignores the asshole. Wait, what was that – a – a – spine? No way. She purposely takes off her clothes in front of him, does this twisted strip tease thing, and okay, maybe a spine, but a stupid one, wtf. She actually says stuff that makes sense, like that she “chose a defenseless baby” over her “spineless” husband. Hey, way to go, Ana! Those are some awesome last words there!
Ana goes on about how hot she looks, blah blah and Christian notices and starts to make a move. She tells him she’ll scream if he comes closer, he says no one will hear her (gawds this is so romantic) and she asks if he’s trying to frighten her. Christian is dumbfounded. Dur, that makes you scared when I say stuffs like that? Yet Ana thinks that if he touches her, she will surely succumb to his “sexpertise” but since she doesn’t, she clearly “deserves a Congressional Medal of Honor”. You know who really deserves that medal, Ana? The readers, that’s who.
Ugh, Ana goes to work and colors some pictures and sees her Dad who tells her what a swell guy hubby is, and then sees Mrs. Jones who also tells her what a swell guy hubby is, and if you believe, just believe, then Christian will become a fairy princess! Ana gets an email from Christipoo, but it doesn’t have cutesy flirty and oh nooos! Then she gets a call from Mia, but eh oh, it’s not the chirpy Cocker Spaniel, it’s . . . dun dun dun . . . Jack Hyde! End chapter.
Since I know you can’t stand the suspense, we’ll go right into Chapter 22. Jack informs the “prick-teasing, gold-digging whore” Ana that he has kidnapped that “little bitch” Mia. You have to love the cute nicknames they give the women in these books. In case you’ve forgotten (I’ve tried) Mia is Christian’s irritating, chirpy little sister. He tells Ana to get 5 million dollars to him but not to tell Christian or his security team or the cops (pfft, like anyone goes to the cops in these books?) Ana, brilliant girl that she is, agrees to his demands.
This sounds familiar. I have images of a dance studio, and another stupid skinny chick being tossed into mirrors because she went to rescue someone without the help of those more powerful. Could it be . . . nah, this is a COMPLETELY original book, you guys.
Jack says he’ll “fuck Mia up” before he kills her and I’m wondering if he means beat her or rape her or just insult her because fuck is used so often in this book I don’t know what they’re talking about anymore. Ana tells her secretary she has to leave early, again, as if this is a big thing. She hasn’t done a damn thing since she took the job but email, leave early, and yammer with Christian and his ex-girlfriends.
She finds Leila’s loaded gun that Christian tossed in the drawer and thinks “Jeez, he could get hurt” and I’m thinking if only. There’s a bunch of wacky hijinks with Ana tricking the security team and peeling out in her car (she gets to drive!) on her way to the bank (which is sleek, modern, and understated by the way). She asks the teller for 5 million and the teller (named Ms. Insincere Smile) immediately hops to when she hears that Ana is Christian’s wife. OMG a celebrity! Being married to Christian makes her even cooler than that Kardashian chick.
But eh oh, the teller guy calls Christian just because some strange chick claiming to be his wife wants to take out 5 million. I mean, jeez. Christian assumes she must be leaving him (like she’s that intelligent) and Ana goes with it since she doesn’t want Christipoo to interfere while she rescues the Cocker Spaniel, er, his sister. He tells her to take all the money and Ana wonders why oh why was she so upset just because he beat her and hung her up on the ceiling and constantly berated her for breathing funny?
Ana starts “weeping copiously” and the teller asks if he can get her some water (again with the water) and Ana says sure. Not like she’s on a deadline or anything. She feels the reassuring pistol at her waist and wait a freaking second – she’s in a bank and they didn’t even . . . nevermind. Jack informs her that there’s a getaway car in the back of the bank (the Dodge! I hope it is painted up like the Joker’s car. That would be perfect.)
It’s not the Joker in the car, but Elizabeth from the office (she was, like Jack’s boss, I think? I don’t care). They meet up with Jack at an abandoned playground (what no dance studio?) and suddenly we really are in a Batman episode. Jack slaps Ana (WHAP!), she bounces onto the concrete (BANG!) and then he kicks her in the ribs (KAPOW!) Ana remembers the gun and shoots him in the knee (PING!) and then passes out (WONK!) Chapter End.
Final Score: Pfft, screw the grading. I give it a -500 on the Batscale.
Ch 23 Ana is ____ through part of this chapter, yet still manages to be _____.
Ch 24 Christian tells Ana a bedtime story involving ____ and _____.
Yo, like I got interviewd by McMary of A Spoonfulof Sugar. I’m think I’m almost to Kardashian level now! Check it out, and of course, check out his cool blog. 😀
I Love language and prepositionsespecially. Why is the title of your blog Alice at wonderland and not Alice in Wonderland?
I wanted to call it Alice in Wonderland, but of course that was taken. I started at blogger, which lets you use a @ so it was alice@wonderland there. But WordPress doesn’t like the @. I think it messes with their Big Brother thing, maybe. So it became aliceatwonderland. And people called me Alice, which is an awesome pseudonym. I love it.
That change of prepositions almost has philosophical consequences. At implies a temporary sort of experience. For example I am at the library or at the ball park (not the men’s locker room Ball Park as in like
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And now the conclusion to Not Quite Alice‘s Mad Tea Party . . . If you missed part one, see here.
I’m not exactly sure how it happened really, it just did. One moment, everyone is enjoying the party, and the next thing I know, it’s chaos. No, that’s wrong. I can tell you what went wrong. Hatter and the March Hare, that’s what went wrong. I made sure they didn’t know about it, that everyone’s invitations said to keep mum about it, yet somehow, they still found out. I’m completely laying the blame at their jam covered feet.
It was a nightmare. That god forsaken doorbell kept ringing, and yet no one seemed to hear it. I tried to ignore it, but alas, it was blasted annoying. It wouldn’t stop, and yet I know I do not have a doorbell in this garden. It feels as if I’m tipping the scales in favor of being mad. Oh I hope not.
Just as I started to try very hard to ignore the dratted doorbell, I saw the look on Caterpillar’s face. He was about to go off on a rant. I could see it coming. Oh please, not now Caterpillar, not now. Oh, this is not going to be good. I best go try to intervene. I can only guess what Rabbit said to him. Oh no, it’s not Rabbit. How did the one Twin get to be next to him? I swear he wasn’t there a moment ago. Why is he bumping his stomach into him? Caterpillar does not like being touched. And there he goes, his face just changed to red.
“Who are you to be touching me? Do not touch me you child. You shall see my wrath if you continue.”
As he spoke, you could see the pieces of spittle flying out of his mouth, as well as the puffs of smoke he was blowing into the Twin’s face. This ended up blinding the twin. Yes, a bumbling fool became more of one due to being blinded by Caterpillar’s spit and smoke. Trying to wipe his eyes, he bounces right into Caterpillar again, who kicked him away. This caused him to fly into Rabbit and the table. Rabbit took off at a run. To where, you might ask. Nowhere in particular, just around the table, but boy was he in a hurry.
At this point, I’m still hearing the doorbell; I cannot take it anymore and have to find it. I leave the chaos of the blinded twin and startled Rabbit behind and start looking. I go to the gate, where anyone might logically think to find something, yet nothing is there. Weird, even the door of the gate is no longer there. How odd. So I start around the cottage (yes I live in a cottage, it’s a step up from a shack, and I don’t need a mansion). Again, nothing there. Wait, that’s not true, there are footprints there, but those could be from anyone. I best leave those alone and keep looking.
As I continue looking around the other side of the cottage, I hear the noise coming from the garden at an increasingly louder pitch, and with more of a sound of hysteria attached. This shall not be good at all. I give up hope of finding the dratted doorbell sound, and now the missing garden gate, and start walking faster towards the garden, after all, I was told ladies do not run, just walk at a much faster pace.
And then I saw it, pure and utter chaos in the form of Hatter and March Hare. Blast it all. Bullocks, this was not suppose to happen, and at my Unbirthday party. I started seeing red, lots and lots of red, like the color of the blood that was about to flow from those two.
Why was this going to happen? Oh, you would feel the same way in my shoes. My cute dainty pumps. Actually, you look like you wouldn’t fit them, so I best not use that phrase, instead I’ll say if you were in my place. Yes, if you were in my place, you would want to spill their blood too.
What I saw as I reentered the garden was unbelievable. The Caterpillar was so enraged; he was bright red and sputtering like a boiling tea pot. The Rabbit was still sprinting around the tea table, but now, it looked he was having balance issues. He kept slipping and sliding, like he was on one of those funny slip n slide games. And his vest is now covered in jam. I know I hid that jam too. Goodness me. This is not good. The twin is still bumping into everything, wait, no; he stopped, and now he is rolling around like a large awkward ball. He is going to hurt someone, if not himself.
Further down, you see the White Knight sound asleep. Thank goodness for miracles, sadly that’s where it ends. The Carpenter and Walrus are in the middle of a serious row. In fact, my lovely scones that I worked so hard on, are being flung across the table as weapons. They’re not weapons, they’re food. So flaky and moist and just dying for some clotted cream. Not to be launched as projectiles.
Right in the middle of all of that, I hear some yelling.
“Clean cup, everybody move down. Clean cup, I need a clean cup.”
There’s Hatter, yelling for a clean cup, and he’s literally pushing people out of their chairs. Ok, I admit that there really are not many left in their chairs, just the White Knight. Sadly I have been mistake, he’s now out of his chair, and sleeping on the ground. Hatter is sitting in his place, drinking his tea. March Hare is right beside him tossing jam like it’s confetti at Rabbit, wait, no that’s stopped, he’s now throwing it at flying scones. Jam is landing on everyone and everything.
Oh goodness, there goes Caterpillar, he’s leaving, well and also leaving a trail of smeared butter, cream, and jam. So that’s how Rabbit looked like he was having balance issues, but how did butter and cream end up on his feet? That will have to stay a mystery for now I’m afraid as I don’t have time to deal with all these mysteries as well as the growing chaos.
I do mean chaos too. There is a trail of jam, butter, and clotted cream leading out of the garden, as well as it being smeared everywhere. I have scones flying across the table as if they were grenades. The Hatter and March Hare are now dancing on the table, why, I’m not really sure, but again, that’s a mystery I cannot solve at the moment, no time. Rabbit is sprinting around and around and around my table while sliding every which way thanks to his butter and cream covered feet. Over there is the White Knight, sound asleep with a blanket of discarded food and condiments on top of him. I don’t see how this could get more out of hand.
“Not Quite Alice, what is the meaning of this? I thought you had invited me to a tea party, not the circus.”
Bullocks, it just got worse.
“Hello Duchess, I’m so pleased you could make it, won’t you take a seat?”
I knew I should have listened to Alice, and not held a tea party on a day ending in Y.
Hullo, all. I have another guest blogger today, with the most fabulous name ever. Not Quite Alice of myrabbitholes. I know, right? TWO Alices. How are you going to tell us apart? I’ll give you a clue. One of us is nuts, and the other one is crazy. So there you go. She’s written a nice little short story about a tea party she tried to have on my blog. It went about as well as most of my family dinners. Also many of my work meetings. It comes in two parts, so stay tuned tomorrow for the rest. Enjoy.
“Clean cup! Move down!”
Oh good lord, not again. How did I get myself into this one? I could have sworn they were not invited. No, I know that they were not invited. I specifically ignored sending them an invite. This was my party, not theirs. I do not care if they have the best tea ever, they always manage to ruin every tea party. Case in point, this one.
It all started off normal. Ok, yes I know it usually does. I should know better by now. Really, I should, I swear I’m too naïve at times.
So the invites went out, ignoring the 2 party crashers (ok they weren’t crashers until they showed up uninvited, but this was my Unbirthday and they ruined the last one.). The tea was ordered, the scones were made, and the butter and jam hidden. That looks about right. Oh, one more thing, almost forgot. There, that’s better. I had to make sure that there were cups at each person’s setting. I cannot have that happen again. Clean cups and saucers for all.
Ok, that should do it. Everyone shall be here soon. Let the party begin!
And cue the doorbell!
No, it actually did just start ringing, which is odd in and of itself, I don’t have a door bell, this is outside, in the garden. So where did the doorbell come from? Ok, I’ll worry about that later, it’s not as if I’m utterly bonkers. I hope.
Guests! There here!
Places everyone, places.
What am I thinking? I am the one that needs to take their place. Should I sit down, or should I greet? Oh my, I don’t want anything to go wrong. It cannot go wrong this time. Not with the Duchess coming. At least, she said she will be coming. Oh I hope she does.
Oh please go good. Please!
There’s that doorbell again. Seriously, when did a doorbell get installed in the garden? No time for that now though, I need to get this party going.
Where is the party going? Oh never you mind that. It’s here, right here in my garden. Don’t you worry about that. Time to start the party.
In walked the Caterpillar, though is that what you would call what he does? Is it walking? Oh I don’t know, but I’ll call it walking for now. Goodness, he brought that God awful Hookah with him again. Can he not go anywhere without smoking that. He also goes on and on about the alphabet and vowels, and asking ridiculous questions that have no proper answers when he is smoking it. I do not need my guests to have to deal with that. I could have sworn I put it on his invitation that this will be a smoke free party.
“Oh do go sit over there, I set up a rather large stool for you, I didn’t know if you could fit into the chair properly.”
And off he goes to the large bean bag style stool I had just received in the mail yesterday. I bought it just for him. He’ll break my chairs otherwise.
Goodness! Where does that blasted doorbell keep coming from? I swear, it’s going to drive me utterly bonkers.
Oh look! It’s the Knave of Hearts. I must keep an eye on him, last time he was around, my tarts disappeared. Oh I hope my scones don’t disappear, they are my favorites and I worked so hard to bake them too. I did invite him though, so best be nice. I just didn’t think he would actually arrive. Ok, control yourself, you can do it. Do not start hiding the food. You can do it. Good girl.
“You best sit down over here, Caterpillar brought the Hookah again, and I know how you cannot stand his rants. “
“I could always just steal that Hookah from him.”
“Don’t even, then that’s all we shall be hearing about for the rest of this Unbirthday. I would like this one to go without a problem.”
I do hope he got the hint, don’t steal my food. How very rude of a guest to do that.
Again! That annoying doorbell. Where the frak is it coming from?
Oh, look, there’s one of the twins, is it Dee or Dumb? Oh, I can never tell the difference between the two. I swear, one is Dumb and the other is Dumber. It’s very fitting. Neither is very smart, they’re actually quite lacking in the brains department, but at least they’re entertaining to have at any gathering. Though, I still do not know which this one is.
Best go see who it is.
“Well, I’m so glad you could make it. Is it just you, or is your brother going to be joining us as well?” (see how slick that was, I hope he gets the hint.)
“That jolly lump is on his way, yet which way it is, I do not know. Perhaps it’s there, or is it here? It could be that a way, or is it this a way?”
Oh sweet sugar, what is he talking about? And he didn’t answer who he is, now I’m just going to have to pretend I know who it is. I wonder if he will actually notice I do not know who he is, or what he is saying? Honestly, I don’t think anyone knows what he is saying.
Oh look, there’s the white knight. He’s such an interesting person, not much of a knight, but a great inventor. I still don’t understand why he became a knight, except he said his father was one, therefore he had to be one. Poor guy, he’s not very brave, this is definitely the wrong line of work for him. He’s better at creating inventions. Perhaps I shall mention this annoying doorbell that keeps going off out here in my garden.
“Good day Sir White Knight, how are you?”
“And exactly who are you again? I don’t recall ever being here before. Where is here?”
“I do believe that you were going to this chair right here. Do take a seat sir, all will be well. Enjoy your tea.”
Great, he’s in one of those moods today. I swear he remembers less and less each time I see him. Honestly, I’m surprised he found his way here, or even remembered that he was to come here.
“Does anyone else hear a doorbell going off?” I cannot help it, I have to ask. I keep hearing it, and no one else seems to. And then the stares start, at least it’s only 4 sets of eyes though. I couldn’t take it if it was more than that just staring at me like I’ve lost my marbles. How could I? I have not had marbles with me this whole time anyways.
I do believe I see the White Rabbit arriving. Late as usual. I swear, he needs to get a working watch. He is always running late. I am half expecting that he will not stay long and run off saying he is late, again. Tis a good thing I have his place all set already.
“Oh good, you’re here Rabbit. I have a place all over here for you. Caterpillar cannot wait to talk to you today.”
That will start to teach him about being on time. From now on, I’ll make sure he sits by Caterpillar until he comes on time. He had best be glad I didn’t sit him near the one twin. Such a nervous little guy too. You’d think he was about to lose his head. Goodness me.
Oh look, there’s the Walrus and the Carpenter. I’m surprised that they came together. Last I heard, the Carpenter was livid with Walrus for eating all those oysters. And they’re suppose to be such good friends too! I’m glad Walrus isn’t my good friend, but he does have a lively aura about him, such fun to have around. Still, if he was my friend, I might have, no, I definitely would have gotten back at him.
“Gentlemen, I’m so glad you could make it today. Do come and enjoy. You’ll find some empty chairs right over here. Let me know if I can get you anything.”
Just don’t kill each other today, save it for when you leave. Please.
It doesn’t look like the Duchess is coming, so I guess we best get things started. I can take my place at the table now.
“Thank you everyone for coming to celebrate my Unbirthday with me today. You have made this a most joyous occasion. Please, everyone, enjoy your tea and scones, and let me know if you need anything.”
And with that, the calm ended.
Don’t forget to come back tomorrow for the exciting and possibly bloody conclusion!
If you’ll notice, we will be covering two lessons today, class. This is in an effort to finish the book before E.L. notices and adds more chapters. Not that I’m paranoid or anything but DON”T TELL HER OKAY??? Right. So last time I asked you to fill in the blanks of this question. “In the next chapter, Ana is stalked by her ______ who forces her to ____ and then informs her she is ______.”
You all failed, like always, but there were some really awesome answers. But the best answer had nothing to do with the question and came from faithhopechocolate when we got into a discussion about what would happen if Bob and Larry from the Veggietales had to cover 50 Shades of Grey.
Bob: Now kids, what do you think is going wrong here?
Larry: Well, Bob, it’s pretty clear that God will forgive them, but maybe they should try forgiving each other first
Bob: Larry, it’s not going to happen. No matter how hard we pray, EL James will still be a bad writer with her so-called hero being a complete psychopath.
Larry: Bob, that’s sad. Can we pray?
I laughed so hard I think I broke something. I’d also think I was hell bound, except that this was made up by a lady who is becoming a Sister, so I think I’m safe. Maybe. Anyway, you’ll find out the answer soon enough, and it will be more horrible than you can possibly imagine.
Okay, so Ana’s dad woke up. So of course Ana and Christian must celebrate with disturbing sex! (Sexy Times, Alice Pukes, AliceScreams) Hooray! He trusses her up in her robe and has her touch herself. (Alice Pukes) Jeez, Christian, the whole point of masturbation is that you don’t need a moron like you around for it. (Facepalm) Way to ruin that as well. So this goes on for pages until Christian says “Come on, Ana” her cue to orgasm with him. (AliceScreams) I once again wonder if there is ever a problem with him asking her to follow and her suddenly falling on the ground in an earth shattering orgasm. That could be interesting at a family dinner.
There’s a lot more nothing. The detective comes back and blah blah Jack Hyde (remember him? I don’t) says Ana seduced him yadda yadda and fingerprints on the helicopter blah and Hyde’s a “fucker” and a “fucking asshole” with a “fucking game”. I’m all out of fucks. (BoredNow) Ana then goes to see her Dad and says “Laters, Daddy” (AnaFail) which is so not messed up and then is walking out of the hospital when her gynecologist, who apparently stalks her, runs up and insists Ana go get a peek and a poke right this second! (WTF).
So the gyno wants to know why Ana cancelled four appointments. Well, doctor, there could be a number of reasons. Maybe she got a new doctor. Maybe she chose a new birth control. Maybe she decided not to take birth control. And anyway, why is it your fucking business? (RedFlag) I mean, I have to schedule my gyno exams at least a year in advance to get into my doctor, yet Ana has one following her around begging her to come in? (WTF) What kind of doctor is this? Oh, wait, Christian chose her. (RedFlag, FacePalm) Nevermind.
So she has Ana take a pregnancy test before she gives her another birth control shot, and you’ll just never, never guess what happens! That’s right! Ana is now carrying a spawn of Satan – er, I mean, Christian. (Alice Cries) Ana reacts to the news like us readers. “What? No, no, no. Fuck.” End Chapter 19.
So chapter 20 begins and we’re still with the stalker gyno, who is also quite the condescending bitch. (AliceScreams) There’s this whole bit with the doctor offering her water (secretaries offer water, nurses offer water, gynos offer water, and we get to hear all about it) and Ana accepting. (AliceScreams) Then the doc says, what the hell, she’ll just give her an ultrasound cause she’s got time and there’s one right there in the same room. (WTF) Yeah, no need for an appointment or anything. Walk-in gynecological exams and sonograms are totally normal. (FacePalm)
Poor stupid Ana thinks the shot is supposed to be good birth control, but the doc says “It normally is when you remember to take the shot.” (FacePalm, AnaFail) Ooh, snap, Ana! She totally freaks when the doc asks her to remove her panties, even though she does this like ten or twelve times a day. (AnaFail) I wonder if Taylor will be summoned to get her more panties while her legs are up in the stirrups.
Now it starts getting good. We get to meet sparkly wand! For more info, see Storkhunter’s informative blog. She puts a condom over the wand (remember, guys, always practice safe sex with your transvaginal ultrasounds) and sticks that sucker up her hoo-ha. (Alice Pukes) Ana thinks “holy fuck” cause like it’s been almost an hour since someone stuck something up there. The doctor then shows her the tiny blip that is her spawn on the screen. Ana continues to call it “blip”. (AnaFail) I call it “the bad seed”.
Then the doc, who five seconds ago was giving Ana hell for not using her birth control right, says “Oh, looks like the shot ran out early.” Like, wtf? So was it Ana’s fault for not getting a shot or not? Just – can you keep continuity within the same damn chapter, James? Too much? (AliceScreams)
Ana has all sorts of arguments with the voices in her head, and she’s certain Christian will hate her when she’s all fat with baby. (AnaFail) Also Christian will be mad because she didn’t get permission to get knocked up. But mostly she’ll be fat. Oh, nooos, what to do? We all know the answer. Email! (AliceScreams)
They say nothing, as usual, and Ana wonders if she should tell him after sex or during sex. (WTF) I say during, Ana, while you’re strapped up all dignified like. She sees her dad, and subconscious says sure you’ll see your dad again “provided Christian hasn’t locked you away . . . or worse” I could see being nervous about it, but honestly thinking your husband is actually going to murder you – hint, hint. This is not a healthy relationship. (Fucking Red Flag).
I figure E.L. will drag this out more, but nope, she tells Christian, who acts like a mature adult and says “we’ll be okay.” Haha, just kidding. He totally flips his shit and acts like an asshole, screaming at Ana loving stuff like “This is why I like control. So shit like this doesn’t come along and fuck everything up!” (Red Flag, Red Flag, RED FLAG) Wow. Be sure to record this one for the baby book, Ana.
Christian walks out on her, and Mrs. Jones gives her the magic cure for domestic abuse – tea! She goes to bed, and Christipoo returns, stinking drunk. He whines about the “invader” and how Ana will “choose him over me.” (RedFlag) Wah. Shut the fuck up, Christian. Ana gets him into bed, and then finds his cell phone and realizes he’s been out drinking with his former lover and child abuser, the ebil Mrs. Robinson. (Facepalm) And now Ana’s mad – not because her husband treated her like shit, but because of a woman, of course. (AnaFail, Double Facepalm) Ana, you’re an idiot, and there is no hope for this child. It’s going to grow up to be Macauley Culkin for certain.
Final Score: 100 – 62 – 120 = -82
Question 1: In Chapter 21, why does Ana believe she deserves a Congressional Medal of Honor?
Question 2: In Chapter 22, we get another ZOMG random plot device! Any guesses what it is? It’s dumber than you think, I bet!
What? You know I have to do a special on the holidays, even the lame ones. Like this one. What do we know about St. Patrick? He is a saint, and he, um, is Irish. But there’s something you probably don’t know about old St. Patrick. That’s right. He is a leprechaun. An evil leprechaun at that.
The guy loves green, especially green beer. This is because he is Irish, and Irish people drink a lot. And bet on boxing matches. I know this because I watched the movie Far and Away. He also likes to torture small children by not letting them eat his sugar coma inducing cereal, Lucky Charms. St. Patrick, in other words, is a jerk.
He’s big on “luck”. A four-leaf-clover is supposed to mean good luck. I have no idea why this dumb clover is good luck. I’ve never found one with four leaves, but I spent hours in the backyard looking for one as a kid. Wait. I think I know why my parents were so big on St. Patrick’s Day now.
St. Patrick is also greedy. He is always putting his gold in these giant pots and hiding them all over the place, and trying to get stupid people to figure out where it is. Oh, hey, Mr. IRS man, my pot o’ gold is . . . uh . . . at the end of the rainbow! Go for it!
And since he loves green, he gets really pissed if someone isn’t wearing it. That’s why he encouraged school kids to pinch one another if they forget to wear green to school. As if young children needed more reasons to mess with one another. “What did you do for St. Patrick’s day, kids?” “Pinched my classmates till I drew blood!” “Great, have a green beer.”
I’m not sure why the Catholic Church made a leprechaun a saint. Maybe it was a joke. Or maybe they had too much green sacramental wine. Or possibly I made all this crap up again. Happy St. Paddy’s Day. If someone pinches you, punch them. And have a green beer.
My first post on Speaker’s incredible new Official How To Blog! Check it out.
Alice of Alice at Wonderland has been slogging through the literary anal dribblings of E.L. James for what feels like an eternity. There is only so much “Fair point, well made Miss Steele/Mrs. Grey” and “Laters baby” one can read before one feels as if they’ve been sucked into a Groundhog-Day-like reality of which there is no escape.
If after reading the above paragraph, you still desire to pore through the monotonous ramblings of an author who knows neither plot or character development, then Alice has prepared a handy how-to on how to slog through this pile o’crap.
Have you wondered what all the fuss was about with 50 Shades, but been scared to read it? Of course you have! With this simple guide, you can read 50 Shades of Grey and possibly keep your sanity.
How To Read 50 Shades
- Download it to your e-reader. Then if someone…
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